Chapter 249: We Can Tame Him
The moment Ningyan stepped out of the chamber, he exhaled heavily, pressing a hand against his chest.
It had become unbearably hot in there.
Another moment with Yan Wuhen and he truly might have gone mad.
He needed distance. He needed space to think.
Whenever that fox was near, looking at him with those burning red-gold eyes, touching him as if it was second nature, Ningyan found it impossible to gather his thoughts.
And there was too much to think about.
The broken fragments of memories. The strange familiarity. The ache in Wuhen’s gaze.
Even if the place where he had awakened would give him answers... Ningyan wanted to understand for himself first.
He wanted....
His steps slowed.
He wanted to erase that expression from Wuhen’s face.
That quiet, painful look Wuhen always wore whenever he thought Ningyan was not looking.
It made something inside him tighten. And that was dangerous.
Ningyan clenched his jaw.
Yan Wuhen was a nine-tailed fox. He was one of the beasts who had destroyed his kind.
He was supposed to kill them all. Not fall into some ridiculous loving husband trap.
He had to focus on his clan. On his purpose.
On....
His thoughts shattered when he turned a corner and slammed straight into someone.
Because he had been so distracted, his body tilted backward from the force but a hand shot out instantly, catching his wrist and pulling him forward before he could fall.
Ningyan blinked.
"I’m sorry," he said quickly, still dazed. "I wasn’t watching where I was going."
At the same time, a deep voice spoke above him. "Are you alright?"
The voice brushed against his senses like low thunder.
Ningyan looked up and froze.
A majestic tiger beastman.
No.
Calling him majestic was an insult to what stood before him.
Golden hair spilled like molten sunlight over broad shoulders, his sharp features striking and noble, his piercing blue feline eyes gleaming beneath the lantern-light like frost-touched sapphire.
Power rolled off him quietly, but heavily like a mountain that did not need to prove its strength.
Ningyan’s throat suddenly felt dry.
The tiger beastman was staring at him too, surprise flashing briefly in those blue eyes before it vanished beneath perfect composure.
"Are you?" he asked.
Ningyan blinked. "Yes..."
His voice came out quieter than intended. "Yes. I’m fine."
The tiger beastman’s gaze lingered on him, slowly and carefully. His tiger ears twitched once, and the long golden tail behind him swayed.
"I’m glad." His voice dropped softer, almost like a murmur.
Only then did Ningyan realize that the tiger beastman was still holding his wrist. And perhaps he noticed it too.
Because his fingers loosened slowly, reluctantly. His warmth slipped away. "Be careful on your journey, little bird."
With that, the tiger beastman walked past him.
Ningyan stood there, unmoving.
Then suddenly turned, but the tiger beast man was already gone. Vanished into the lantern-lit corridor as if he had never been there at all.
An odd heaviness settled in Ningyan’s chest.
Sharp disappointment.
He stared at his wrist, where that warmth had lingered. Then grabbed it with his other hand, frowning.
"What is wrong with me?" He muttered under his breath. "Why am I finding every beast attractive now?"
First the serpent. Then the nine tailed fox. Now a tiger.
Ningyan pressed a hand to his forehead. "Focus, Ningyan."
He kept walking. "Focus on the clan."
His voice grew firmer. "None of this is real. They’re distractions."
He repeated it to himself like a mantra.
Again. And again.
And yet, it did absolutely nothing.
A low growl of frustration slipped past his teeth. He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, leaning his weight heavily against the railing while looking up at the night sky.
"Perharps I just need a good company in bed?" he asked himself, a bitter, breathless laugh escaping him. "Maybe that’s the problem here? Because why else would I be..."
He choked off the thought, his expression twisting into a dark frown. "Focus."
^°^
Yan Wuhen was reaching the edge of his patience.
No. He had crossed it long ago.
Watching Ningyan stand right before him, breathing, alive, warm, yet looking at him as though he were a stranger, it was maddening.
His husband could not remember him.
He could not remember them.
And worse, those damned phoenixes had poisoned Ningyan’s mind, planting glorious lies of how the beast clans had destroyed his people, twisting hatred into his bones until it had become instinct.
Ningyan looked at him now as an enemy.
A temptation. A stranger.
Wuhen hated it.
He hated all of it.
He knew he would need backup sooner or later.
He had gone after Ningyan alone, without informing the others.
Even after Lan Meishan had revealed that he had already met Ningyan in Fire City.
Wuhen had wanted to handle it himself.
He had thought... perhaps Ningyan would remember him first.
That hope was laughable now.
With a low groan, Wuhen grabbed the cup of liquor beside him and drained it in one swallow.
The burning taste did nothing.
He rose sharply and stormed out of the chamber. But by the time he reached the open corridor, Ningyan was gone.
Below, startled voices rose from the guests.
Wuhen stepped to the railing and looked up.
Far above, beneath the endless dark sky, a massive white phoenix with black and crimson flames cut through the heavens, wings blazing against the moonlight.
He looked so majestic, untouchable.... He was running.
Wuhen scoffed, his red-gold eyes sharpening dangerously.
Cold wind swept through his crimson hair.
"This makes me want to wipe them all out." His voice was low and deadly.
He turned and went back into the chamber.
And stopped.
Someone was already there.
Seated leisurely at the desk Wuhen had just abandoned. Pouring himself liquor.
Rong Yue.
Golden hair spilled over broad shoulders like sunlight cast into silk, his sharp features calm under the candlelight and behind him his tiger tail swayed lazily.
He lifted the cup, taking a slow sip.
His ears twitched. Blue feline eyes lifted meeting Wuhen’s.
"What are you doing here?" Wuhen asked.
There was no surprise in his voice. No displeasure either.
Rong Yue rose smoothly. "I do not blame you for being so distracted that you failed to notice my presence in this inn."
His voice was calm... Too calm.
He set the cup down and lowered his gaze slightly. "He is still the same."
Wuhen stilled.
"Reckless... Beautiful." Rong Yue’s eyes darkened. "But drenched in demonic energy."
His jaw tightened. "That answers our question about what the demon tools were used for, doesn’t it?"
Wuhen said nothing.
The silence between them thickened. Then he crossed the room. Stopping before Rong Yue.
His hand rose, gripping his shoulder before sliding to his neck, fingers tightening there. Not enough to hurt but enough to feel.
"What do you think will happen," Wuhen asked quietly, "if I slaughter every phoenix?"
Rong Yue held his gaze. "It would anger our husband."
Wuhen’s fingers tightened.
Rong Yue continued. "He has spent months slaughtering beasts in the name of his kin. His hatred is rooted deep. If you strike now—"
"You think I care?" Wuhen’s voice cracked. His nine tails erupted behind him, flames igniting along their lengths, filling the room with violent heat. "They stole him from us!"
His red-gold eyes glowed with rage as he stepped back. "They killed him. Broke him. Corrupted him with demon tools until they became part of him!" His breathing turned uneven.
"For him to absorb that much demonic corruption... they must have torn him apart first."
Rong Yue watched him silently.
Wuhen’s raw voice lowered. "And you care about angering him?"
His eyes trembled. "We can tame him."
Rong Yue sighed. A tired, aching sound. "We cannot take him by force, Hen’er."
"We have to try." Wuhen’s expression twisted with pain, grief and madness. "It has been three hundred years."
His voice dropped into a whisper. "One more second. One more hour... and I will lose my mind."
Rong Yue’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. His blue eyes softened. "Me too, Hen’er."
Wuhen’s tails lashed violently. "Then let’s kill them all."
There was genuine bloodlust in his voice.
Rong Yue rose to his feet. "Hen’er..." He stepped closer, lifted a hand and pressed it gently against Wuhen’s cheek.
His touch was warm and steady. "We will."
His voice was soft. "But first..."
His thumb brushed against Wuhen’s skin. "We calm down."
Wuhen frowned. "That has never been my specialty."
Rong Yue smiled faintly. "I know."
That was exactly why he was here.